Stars
by turntechBirdhead
Summary: Big Boss and Ocelot throughout their years, from the very end of the Snake Eater mission, to their deaths.


A/N: My first try at Metal Gear fanfiction. I'm trying to get their characterisations down correctly, so apologies in advance if they seem to be OOC. To be fair, this fic does start up DIRECTLY after the closing of MGS3, so the death of The Boss is still very, very fresh for Big Boss (Which I feel justifies his behaviour in the first paragraphs somewhat).

I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it. :)  


* * *

Snake stifles another sob, his composure crumbling. His hand comes down from a salute and his eye follows the movement of his hand until it drops down to his side listlessly. His gaze then upturns slightly to linger on the gravestone afore him.

IN MEMORY OF A PATRIOT

WHO SAVED TH-

His eye waters significantly and he becomes unable to read the rest again, vision far too blurred. He tips his head back to the bright sky, blinking back the moisture in his eye with fruitless results, more tears managing to escape. Snake draws in a shaky breath before scoping the rest of the cemetery, looking anywhere but ahead of him.

He was at a stalemate, really. He felt far too anguished to want to stay here for too long, at the solemn Arlington National Cemetery, but at the same time he felt so compelled to the place to not even budge. There was a vast amount of respect he felt to be given, but yet, his heart felt like it was being wrenched out with every passing moment.

A breeze began to pick up and the clouds began to roll in, and Snake remained in place for what seemed to be hours with nothing but his heavy thoughts and broken heart.

* * *

He was broken from his stupor when he heard footsteps coming forth toward him, down that winding dirt road Snake had taken to reach here. He'd have probably gone daft from the powerful conflicting emotions running throughout his mind, had he not been in what seemed to be some sort of outer-worldly trance during almost the entire stay. The footsteps steadily grew nearer and nearer, and Snake willed himself to keep in check, just trying to keep himself presentable, trying to keep himself from breaking apart. And when the other reached him, they merely sit in silence, neither one really knowing what to say, or even wanting to break it.

Ocelot's eyes skim over Snake's form as they stand there in quiet, the only noise is the ambience of trees rustling and the wind blowing, which was significantly picking up in speed and regularity as time went by. Ocelot could just tell that a storm was brewing; he wrinkles up his nose once he begins to smell rain hiding out above clouds.

In a sense, that kind of was how Snake—_John_–-was at the moment. Ocelot understood that one should mourn the loss of a beloved other, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed that his idol, his rival, was acting like a _wuss_. Well, at least that's how Ocelot saw it as. _Too much weakness in such a proud and strong creature such as John_, as if he never realised there was no such thing as a perfect specimen.

Disappointment grew heavily in Ocelot's heart for whatever reason, he could not place.

He brings his hand to reach to his necklace, the one of the bullet from his pistol that jammed when he and John had first met weeks ago, in the Russian jungle. He holds it close to his heart, tight in his fist, as his dull blue eyes flitter down at the grave in front of them; to the one John's heart would forever ache for. He was jealous, in a sense. Oh, he knew. There had to be a reason he was fighting through Hell for that guy, he knew it had to be some sort of twisted form of… love. Bitter and frustratingly confusing thoughts rushed over him again, as they always had since he'd first layed eyes on John.

Snake finally makes for a chance to look over at the other, finally feeling composed, (although he was sure he was still shaking), trying to keep himself from over-flowing with emotion. His eye skims over his Russian enemy, and he feels incredibly surprised that the man was there.

"Ocelot," he grits out in that deep, husky voice of his, Ocelot secretly fans over,"…what in the world are you doing here?"

"Adamska," Ocelot corrects Snake quickly, the pseudo-speech he gave John after he jumped out of the WIG still running through his mind.

Snake kind of stares at the boy, before replying. "…O.K., but that still doesn't answer my question." His eye flickers about Ocelot's person once more, hesitant to know why his foe was here both unannounced and in a different country so unexpectedly. _No weapon_, he notes to himself, the already low threat of Ocelot becoming more regarded as a nuisance. He adds for good measure, "…Adam."

_It's a start_, Ocelot thought, secretly swooning over the fact that _John was acknowledging him_. But he had to admit, he was at a bit of a stand-still and unable to answer, since he didn't know the truth himself. Stalker-ish obsession? …Actually, yeah that sound quite like it. But that probably wouldn't fly over well by stating that to the other man explicitly. Ocelot ran through all the ideas scampering sbout his mind, not knowing which to catch. "…I don't know," he decides on, which, to some regard, was the truth.

"Shouldn't you be with the _Russians_?" Snake almost spat the word, venomous feelings running through his veins about the USSR now more than ever. Snake even almost felt the need to give an off-remark about the damn Commies, but held his tongue at the thought of insulting the other man, which he had to say he respected.

_Ah, O.K., I can run with this one_. "Funny story about that," Ocelot replied, no longer quite tight-lipped about the situation, arrogance rising above the surface, Snake could already tell, and fought the urge to roll his eye. Ocelot glanced over at the other slyly before shrugging. "But… I'll have to save that story for another time."

Snake didn't really know how to approach the situation now, so he merely paused and stared at Ocelot, awaiting anymore information to be given.

"But I assure you, I am not here to kill you."

"…I still don't feel very secure about that statement."

There was a very pregnant pause between the two again, similar to how it was when Ocelot first arrived, when he began to sense that Snake was getting annoyed with him and being without answers. Ocelot caves and turns to the other.

"Look," he begins and earns Snake's attention, being sure to drop his voice a bit after, "I wish I could tell you, but I really just can't right now."

Snake hesitates, but ultimately gives off a small nod in hopes for dismissing the other man._ The way he worded it kind of sounded like he's expecting an eavesdropper_, Snake thought, suspicious ideas formulating.

"When the time is right," Ocelot says quietly, mostly to himself. He instantly freezes up when a droplet of rain plops down upon his nose. As if in slow-motion, he looks up to the intensely grey sky, just as it begins to pour.

"God_dammit_!" Ocelot hisses, already beginning to recoil. "Like _HELL_ am I gonna stay out here." He's quick to just turn on his heel and stomp off, mood completely ruined. And that was merely how they parted. Ocelot's brash decisions or glamourous exits were simply far more favourable than a couterous gesture.

He continues until he reaches the gates inclosing the cemetery before turning back. His gaze lingers for a while, not moving despite his utter hatred for the rain.

When Snake turns back to look at him, Ocelot is quick to look away, once again storming off.

His heart flutters in his chest the entire way back, façade dropping as soon as he got out of Snake's sight, once over the hill. It was then that he broke out into a run.

"I guess cats really do hate water," Snake murmurs, remaining in place.

He eventually turns back around to the Boss's grave when his olive beret is soaked.

* * *

Chapter Two is in production, and will then up this to a **M** rating.


End file.
